


Burning Love

by haleofStilesheart



Series: Tumblr Prompts [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Derek, Worried Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 06:37:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7349869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haleofStilesheart/pseuds/haleofStilesheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles gets burned. Derek gets overprotective.</p><p> </p><p>  <em>“Shit! I burned myself!”</em><br/>Derek was on his feet in a second, across the loft in the kitchen a moment later gently holding Stiles’ hand to assess the damage. It was only a small flash of bright livid red on Stiles’ palm but the sight of it marring his flawless pale skin shook Derek to his core. <em></em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Burning Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [babyygrilll](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=babyygrilll).



> For the ❄ prompt: 88. "Shit! I burned myself!"
> 
>  
> 
> [Send me a prompt!](http://hale-of-stiles-heart.tumblr.com/)

“Shit! I burned myself!”

Derek was on his feet in a second, across the loft in the kitchen a moment later gently holding Stiles’ hand to assess the damage. It was only a small flash of bright livid red on Stiles’ palm but the sight of it marring his flawless pale skin shook Derek to his core. 

He led Stiles to the sink by his wrist, running a trickle of cool water over his hand, fighting the very visceral urge to whine when Stiles winced. Lifting Stiles by his waist, Derek set him on the counter and grabbed a hand towel to gently pat dry Stiles’ hand. Raising a finger, he sternly instructed, “Stay.”

He turned and strode out of the kitchen, ignoring Erica’s cackle from the living room and the eye roll Stiles was undoubtedly giving him. He disappeared into the hallway bathroom, rummaging around under the sink.

He returned with a generic first aid kit, big red cross included, that Stiles’ raised his eyebrows at. He set it down on the counter beside Stiles’ hip with more force than necessary and shoved open, rifling through its meticulously organized contents.

Derek grabbed a tube of burn cream, squirting a large dab on his finger and gingerly rubbing it onto Stiles’ burn, tossing the hand towel aside. Wiping the excess cream off on his jeans, he grabbed a roll of bandages from the kit. He patiently wrapped Stiles’ hand, careful not to further irritate the burn. 

“Geez,” Stiles whistled as Derek finished securing his bandages. “Why do you even have all that stuff? You’re a werewolf, dude.”

Derek dropped his hands to the counter, balling them into white-knuckled fists, and growled, “I have it because I have an idiot boyfriend who’s extremely and infuriatingly accident prone.” 

He huffed out a frustrated breath before scrubbing a hand over his face, squeezing his eyes shut, furrowing his brow. 

“Hey…” Stiles said softly. When Derek didn’t look at him or show any indication that he’d heard him, Stiles tried again, “Hey. Derek, look at me.”

Derek did, reluctantly meeting Stiles’ gaze and looking like a kicked puppy. Stiles cupped his cheeks, lifting his chin and laying a kiss to his forehead, the tip of his nose before pressing their foreheads together.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked quietly, rubbing his thumbs over Derek’s cheeks. “I’m fine, okay? It probably won’t even blister. Hell, it doesn’t even hurt.”

“I know, I know,” Derek whispered, almost inaudibly, leaning into Stiles’ touch.

“And you know know why I’m okay?” Stiles asked. Derek shook his head as much as Stiles’ grip would allow. Stiles smiled at him sweetly. “Because I have the most wonderful boyfriend who takes such, such,  _ such _ good care of me.”

Derek pulled back to look at Stiles fully, smiling tentatively at him. Stiles lifted one hand to run it through Derek’s hair, pulling him into a gentle kiss. Derek hummed happily, wrapping his arms around Stiles’ waist and stepping closer. 

After several long, lingering kisses, Stiles whispered, “Okay, no more, big guy. We’ve got a whole pack of wolves out there who just heard everything and are still waiting for their brownies.”

“Mmm… Alright, babe,” Derek responded, helping Stiles slide off the counter, playfully slapping his ass once he was standing.

When Stiles returned to the stove where his pan of homemade brownies was resting to cool down, Derek stopped him with a hand to his chest and admonished, “Oven mitts.”

Stiles rolled his eyes as Derek handed him a pair of oven mitts, smacking his overprotective boyfriend in the arm with one before slipping them on. He followed Derek back out to the living room with the pan of brownies, setting it down on the coffee table and pulling off the oven mitts. He grabbed a plate for him and Derek, grabbing a few brownies for them to share.

Returning to his favorite armchair, Stiles plopping down on his lap with a plate of brownies, Derek nuzzled into Stiles’ neck as they resumed watching the movie Isaac had picked, hand feeding each other bits of brownie and ignoring Erica as she made retching sounds. 

“Hey, Der?” Stiles whispered a few minutes later, eyes riveted on the TV.

“Yeah?” 

“Does this mean I really am hot like burning?”

Derek nipped his neck in reprimand for the awful joke as Stiles howled with laughter.


End file.
